Scars and Tears
by Sasha Janre-Ishtar
Summary: *YAOI*Sequel to "You Make Me Sick" Bakura and Yami have gotten through their ordeals in their basement adventure. But it’s not over yet. Malik Ishtar is in town and he’s looking for one thing—Bakura. And he’ll do whatever it takes to get him.
1. Back to school!

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Kizuato to namida 

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Scars and Tears

SJ 2002

Author notes: Hey guys! It's me again … getting tired of me yet? ^^; This is the sequel (whoa, that was fast, wasn't it?) to "You Make Me Sick" featuring the Yaoi couple of Yami Yugi and Yami Bakura. I did some research concerning Malik Ishtar/Yami Malik and hopefully I have a better idea of how his creepy little mind works. You'll help me with that, won't you? Onto the synopsis! Oh, one more thing. I'm not sure of how the second season of YGO goes, so pretty much everything that's here is of my own little warped mind…^_^;;

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Synopsis: Bakura and Yami have gotten through their ordeals in their basement adventure. But it's not over yet. Malik Ishtar is in town and he's looking for one thing—Bakura. And he'll do whatever it takes to get him. 

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Chapter 1"Back to school!" 

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September 

I didn't like this. I didn't like this one little bit. Looking around the school, I saw the little mortal students hurry about, meeting friends, lounging about outside, and pretty much wasting time before the first bell rang. I stood by the bus stop; dressed in the school's exceedingly creative blue and white uniform, adjusting the strap of the shoulder-pack my Aibou gave me. Where was Yami? Wasn't he supposed to go through this educational hell with me? Knowing them, they probably ditched me just to see how horribly I'd fail at finding my way around the place. 

Now there's the irony of the entire situation. I was a grave robber in my past life, I could find my way in and out of the most complicated labyrinths, but a simple high-school campus confuses the hell out of me. Karma's a bitch. I leaned against the pole, closing my eyes for a moment. Immediately Yami's face appeared and I smiled faintly. Opening my eyes again, I sighed and looked with disdain at the building of Domino High School. "Well it's now or never, Bakura," I muttered to myself. "Time to go and get lost." 

"Bakura!" came my Aibou's voice, and my head turned to the left, where I saw Ryou, Yugi, Yami and their friends come running from across the field. Well it's about damn time. They sure took their own sweet time getting here. "Why did you leave so early?" 

I stared at him blankly. "I left at the time you told me to. You were the one that was late, Aibou." Ryou looked at his watch and gave me a sheepish grin. "You all took your goddamned sweet time, didn't you?" 

Joey grinned at me. "Well yeah, because we knew that the great Bakura had the patience to deal with it!" 

With a glare, I said, "Don't make me hurt you, Wheeler." 

"Ah, you wouldn't do that! I'm Yami's friend!" Joey said with another big grin. 

"I don't care. That doesn't protect you from me harming you because of your rampant stupidity!" I countered, and Joey stuck out his tongue. "Great rebuttal, by the way." 

Yami moved from behind Tristan and walked up to me. "You aren't a morning person, are you, Bakura?" 

I made a face at him, wrinkling my nose and he laughed. "What was your first clue?" Yami chuckled and put a hand on my shoulder before giving me a gentle kiss on the lips. The group shielded us, so none of the other students saw. "When does this infernal institution start anyway?" 

Yugi looked at his watch. "Well we've got half an hour before the bell rings. Do you all have your schedules? I don't remember if we have classes together or not." 

Téa looked at hers, as did Joey, Tristan, Ryou, Yugi, Yami and myself. "I remember now," Tristan said after a little while, "we're all in the same homeroom and have most of our classes together except for last block." 

I glanced at my timetable then looked at Yami's. "I have chemistry last block," I spoke up, making sure I read the infernal thing right. 

Yami looked at his own timetable. "I have physics then. Oh well, we're in every other class together." I smiled faintly at him and he glanced back at the paper in his hands. Walking in our little troupe, we walked into the cafeteria, where Joey challenged me to a friendly game of duel monsters. 

"Are you sure you want to?" I asked dryly. 

"This isn't for money or anything, Bakura," Joey said with his thick Brooklyn accent. "I just want a friendly duel with ya." 

Rolling my eyes, I conceded, and Ryou handed me our deck. Joey had improved; I saw that much from his duel against Yugi and Keith in the Duellist Kingdom. But, in the end, he still managed to bungle things up and I won. "Well that was slightly entertaining," I said with a yawn. 

Joey smirked. "What kept you up late last night?" He glanced at Yami who turned a bright shade of crimson. I picked up his Time Wizard card and flicked it at his head. "Ow! Damn it, Bakura …" 

"I see your aim's gotten better," Yami commented and I rolled my eyes. The group looked at us confusedly, and Yami shook his head. "Inside joke." Finally, it seemed, the bell rang—ding, ding, and ding—and we set off for class. 

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Last block

Wearily, I glanced up at the clock. The class had just started and already I was wondering when the torture would end. The day had gone by insanely slowly, and I found myself wishing I could just go back inside the Millennium Ring. Sadly though, that nagging thing called my conscience pestered me about the strangeness and inability to explain to everyone about how I could vanish inside a piece of Egyptian jewellery. 

I straightened my back and suddenly felt someone's breath on my neck. I froze, shivering slightly as that person's breath was oddly cold. Suddenly I turned around to see who the hell was trying to play with me but saw no one. That's it, Bakura, you're just going completely flipping crazy. Your boredom is causing you to be even more disillusioned than these mortals. 

The teacher walked in, a nice-looking woman with short brown hair and eyes that reminded me of a placid lake. "We have a student from out of the country," she announced, and the class, just like me, looked absolutely thrilled. "All the way from Egypt." This peaked my interest and I raised an eyebrow. "Please give a nice Domino High welcome to Malik Ishtar." Walking through the door was a young man with mocha skin, tanned blond hair, with hypnotising purple eyes. He was dressed in the school uniform, his hair long and full. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I remembered who he was. "Why don't take a seat next to Bakura? He's the one with the white hair." 

Malik gave a nod to the teacher and walked down the aisle between the lab tables, walking with a confident stride. The girls in the class whispered excitedly about the hotness of the new student, how the long, pointed golden earrings jingled slightly as he walked, how lovely his eyes were, the golden collar around his neck giving him that exotic look…personally it made me sick to my stomach. "So we meet again, Bakura," he said in a husky tone.

I looked over with utter disdain. "Yeah, so we do." Malik pulled out the blue stool and sat down on it, a smirk on his face the entire time. As the class din rose to the arrival of the new student, I figured I'd take a chance and say, "I didn't think you'd show your conniving hide here." 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him give me this hurt expression on his face. "Those are harsh words, Bakura…considering how you almost joined me in annihilating your little group of friends," Malik said, the smirk returning to his lips. I grunted, not wanting to relive that experience. I knew how bad I had been, how nothing else was important to me other than to control everyone and everything. How nothing could stand in my way of accomplishing this plan. I didn't want to remember it. "You've gotten soft, Bakura." 

"Shove it," I muttered, tapping my pencil on my binder. Malik merely smirked at me and I glared at him. The class went by quickly, interestingly enough considering who was sitting beside me. What the hell was he here for? Just as I got up to leave, Malik put a hand on my shoulder. "What the hell do you want?" I demanded. 

Malik, moving closer to me than I would have liked, putting his other hand on my hip. "I think it'll be clearer to you later on what I want. And just remember this: Whatever I want, I always end up getting." He was very close to me, so close I could feel his cold breath dancing along the soft skin of my neck. At this moment I was glad that there was no one in the classroom. "See you tomorrow, Bakura." With that, he picked up his shoulder-pack and walked out of the classroom.

I stood there for a moment, a cross between pissed off and extremely confused. This guy could not be more freaking ambiguous. I must have been standing there a long time as Yami's voice broke the stillness. "Bakura?" I jumped, spinning around to see him. "What's the matter, you were just…standing there." 

Shaking my head, I picked up my bag. "It's nothing, I was just…thinking about something," I lied, ignoring the fact I still had Goosebumps on my arms. "Well how was your first day of legalised hell?" 

A smile came to Yami's face as he thought things were now back to normal. "It was pretty all right, actually. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. What about you, love?" 

I shrugged. "It was boring as hell and I really don't see how I'm going to survive the year without strangling someone." Yami chuckled and I narrowed my eyes slightly. "It's not funny. I don't understand how these idiots moved up the levels to get this far." 

"It's just one of those mysteries," Yami suggested, shrugging his shoulders. "Just don't kill anyone all right?" 

"I don't know if I can make that promise," I muttered and he laughed again. As Yami began talking about how intriguing the mortal world was, I found myself thinking about Malik. It felt odd to see him again. Just remembering what happened the last time I saw him sent a chill down my spine. Before I had changed, I remember how much the evil and hatred consumed me. But it was nothing compared to the hatred and bitterness that coursed through Malik's veins. Yugi and his friends had thought that Malik himself was bad, but they had seen nothing until they met his Yami…

"Bakura, are you all right? You look zoned," Yami's voice broke my thoughts again and I blinked, turning to him. "Not to mention you look really worried. What's the matter?" 

I shook my head. "It's nothing, Yami." I felt a pang of guilt for lying to him about something that could be potentially dangerous. But I couldn't tell him about Malik. I couldn't tell him about someone that I could deal with myself. As we walked across the field, I saw Malik standing on the ledge of the stairs leading to the south western entrance. I saw him staring straight through everyone to me. 

I saw the deadly determination in his eyes and wondered what he came all the way here for. What could he possibly want here…? A feeling of slight alarm washed over me as I realised that he must be here for Yami. Malik's dislike for Yami ran far deeper than mine had, to such a depth that murder was not just an idea, it was Yami's destiny, in Malik's eyes. Locking gazes with him, I made a silent vow to protect Yami. At any cost. 

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-TBC-

Sasha: Eh…how was it? I still think there's something wrong with it, but over all, I'm pretty satisfied with it. What do you guys think? Just for repetition's sake, this doesn't follow the timeline of Yu-Gi-Oh to a T, I'm taking extreme liberties with this fic. Please review I need the feedback. ^_^ Peace out! 


	2. Uninvited

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Chapter 2"Uninvited." 

Author notes: Well hey, Bio's boring and I really didn't feel like learning about *dramatic voice* THE GREAT YELLOWSTONE FIRE! So I figured I'd crank out most of what I could of this chapter. Okay, just so no one asks, Malik Ishtar/Yami Malik are both flipping psychos that make Pegasus look like a cry-baby and a worse temper than Yami Bakura, correct? ^_^; It's my lovely talent of paraphrasing… Please review, those reviews are the one thing that keep me going! Other than that and the fact you'll all kill me if I don't update…

Oh! One more thing…someone asked why Bakura AND Yami are both going to Domino high school and learning … well I really don't have a good explanation for that, just … uh… well there's no real other reason other than I just felt like it. Just humour me…it works better for the story arc if they're both…well…separate from their lights. Thanks to the Queen of Curses for that juicy little bit of info on Malik! I seriously wouldn't peg him as the one to…well, have a hobby quite like that. A thanks also goes out to Crystalline Maxwell for the background information on Malik, I really appreciate it! 

***

After our adventure in the basement, Yami and Yugi began to live, along with Sugoroku Motou (Yugi's grandfather) with Ryou and myself. Yugi joked that if the two of us wanted to share a room, it could be the one in the basement. Needless to say, Yami and myself weren't laughing too hard at that joke. Instead, our room was my room, with Ryou's down the hall and Yugi's right beside it. Like Ryou, I was glad to have someone else in this massive house. It felt lively, and wasn't the tense atmosphere it was with just Ryou and myself. 

At the moment, Yami, Yugi and Ryou had gone out to get groceries, leaving me to my own devices. I love how they decide to leave when I'm in the shower. Some things will never change. After finishing my shower, I changed into a black muscle shirt and black jeans. Walking through the labyrinth that was my home (again, does it not seem utterly pathetic that I got lost at SCHOOL?), going to the entertainment centre. Not five minutes after sitting down, the doorbell rang. "Fuck," I cursed, getting up and sprinting to the front door. "If you're one of those flipping salesmen—" I stopped in mid-sentence as my eyes locked with a pair of deep violet orbs. "Malik…well just as bad, I suppose." 

Not at all effected by my remark, Malik stayed expressionless. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, boots, and that purple sleeveless hoodie that showed off his tanned muscular arms. His wrists and arms were adorned with golden bands, two on each arm. "Aren't you going to invite me in, _Bakura_?" he asked, his violet eyes flickering with an unknown intent. "It would be the _nice_ thing to do, _Bakura_." The way Malik purred my name caused me to fight the strong urge not to shiver. 

"But why would I let a murderer in my house? It's just not smart," I countered, allowing my old temper to flare. 

Malik's eyes flickered with anger for a moment, but then returned to their normal, confident state. "You're one to talk, _Bakura_. You know that you are, if not just as bad, as I am. Don't play that crap with me. You're not fooling anyone. I can tell that inside, deep inside you, you haven't changed one little bit," Malik said, his voice slow, husky, and deliberate. The slight alarm that washed over me must have been evident in my eyes. "Invite me in," he commanded. 

"Come in," I conceded, stepping back to let Malik in. "But you're not staying for very long." At this, Malik merely laughed. "It's nice to know that you take me seriously."

"Oh, I do take you seriously, Bakura. Well, I _did_," Malik replied, walking into the house, brushing past me. I closed the door and raised an eyebrow. "I did take you seriously before you let your light turn you into this…mushy mess." 

I bristled defensively. "I am _not_ a mushy mess. And just who the hell do you think you are just randomly appearing again making assumptions on _my_ life?" 

Malik raised an eyebrow. "I see you've also contracted PMS." His lips curled into a smug smirk and I resisted the urge to smack him. "But I didn't come here to discuss your health." 

"Oh really?" I asked sarcastically, folding my arms. "Just what did you come for?"

"You." 

I stared at him blankly. "Excuse me?" 

Malik's expression didn't change, if there even was one to begin with other than that infuriating smirk. "I won't lie to you. You're the reason I came to this dismal place. You've got something I want." 

Again, he could not be more ambiguous. Then again, with the way this conversation was going, I wouldn't put it past Malik to leave me with some weird-ass prophecy that foretells me getting a ranch of cattle…or was that his sister, Isis? Sometimes this guy could be two fries short of a happy meal. "As…_ flattered_ as I am that you made the trip for me, you're going to have to spell this one out. I don't follow psycho-speak as well as I used to." 

"Your insults have also gotten pretty lame," Malik answered, moving closer to me. I backed into the door, and cursed inwardly. I didn't like the way this was going. "But I will spell this out for you, Bakura. Only because I wish to see how you react." His hands planted themselves firmly on my hips, his lips slightly brushing my earlobe. This time I shivered, and shut my eyes tightly. "Oh no, open your eyes. I want to see them." Finding this not only freakishly odd, but very uncomfortable, I did as I was told reluctantly, and stared into his violet eyes. 

"If you know me as well as you claim to, then you should know I'm impatient," I said, wishing at that moment as my hand rested on the doorknob, that it would swing out, not inwards. "I hate surprises." 

"Well then," Malik said slowly, brushing his lips again against my earlobe, and tightening his grip on my hips, "this shouldn't come as a surprise to you then. What you expected me to come for, is not what is the truth. Sometimes _Bakura_, you have to look at what's right in front of your face." 

"That sure sounds like a clear answer," I drawled sarcastically. Cutting me off from the other half of my rebuttal was Malik's lips pressed against mine. I couldn't deny there was some sort of shock as he kissed me, pressing me harder against the door. As he broke the kiss, I glared at him. "What the hell was that for?" 

"To show you what I want," Malik whispered, running a hand through my hair and down my face. I went to bite his fingers that danced around my lips, but Malik's reflexes were sharp. "Ah, ah," he warned, waving his index finger. Pulling me away from the door, Malik opened it and walked out. "Oh, and Bakura…" 

"What…?" 

"Your love won't survive." With that, Malik walked down the pathway and to a black car, which sped off. I closed the door with a loud *slam* and glared at pretty much everything in the house. Looking back at the door I noticed that I had cracked the door when I slammed it. Shrugging, I went back to the entertainment centre. What Malik said before he left both confused and interested me. 

_Your love won't survive_…what the hell was that supposed to mean? I contemplated it and realised with a start that he must have meant Yami and I… the anger swelled inside me as I thought through this. How in the living hell would he know that? The bastard was in no position to go around saying shit like that to me. I clenched and un-clenched my fists, digging my nails further into the palms of my hands. There's nothing I hated more than someone making decisions on my life. I make my own decisions, and no one can pass judgement on that because quite frankly, I don't give a shit. 

But there must have been something to his words; or else he wouldn't have said them. Malik maybe a nutcase, but he won't say something unless there's some truth to them. It made me ponder though, what Malik knew that I didn't. The more I thought about it, the more the 'impending doom' feeling consumed me. Growling, I smacked the couch with my fist, hearing a 'whump'. It was quickly frustrating me and I didn't like it at all. Did he mean that Yami and I couldn't work things out? That our personalities were too different? Could we not move past what had happened all those millennia ago and be…happy? 

Then again, fate always showed me that I could never be happy. Or that it just loved screwing me over more times than I could dare to count. "This is ridiculous," I said finally, grabbing one of the many remote controls. I stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out if this was the TV remote, or the DVD one. Randomly, I pressed a button and the huge big screen TV turned on. "I hate modern technology…" I couldn't focus however, on the program on TV, as my mind wandered back to Malik. "Damn you, Ishtar," I muttered. "Damn you for infesting my mind…" 

I must have been zoned for a long time as I jumped fifteen feet in the air as Yami put his hands on my shoulders. "You're really engrossed in that show, aren't you?" Yami questioned lightly, sitting down beside me. When I didn't respond, Yami's eyebrows knitted together. "Bakura, did you hear me?" 

Nodding, I cleared my throat, making sure my voice was still there. "Yeah…the show's not that interesting though…but you have to wonder how someone can spend who knows how many years standing in evening gowns and touching a square screen to reveal letters?" 

Ryou blinked. "Is this what you ponder when no one's home? I knew you were a little eccentric, Yami, but I didn't think you were this bad." 

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "Quiet, you. It's just puzzling to me, that's all. How a mortal woman can stand there like some sort of ornament and do it for over ten years." I held up a hand. "Never mind, just forget I said anything." Ryou shook his head ruefully and went down the hall with Yugi to the kitchen number…was it 1 or 4? I don't remember. 

Yami took off his jacket and cracked his knuckles. I leaned forward and rested my chin on my palms. Suddenly, I felt Yami's hands massaging a crick in my neck. "You're tense," Yami said absently, as he kneaded the knots. I moaned slightly, relaxing as his slender fingers attacked the pressure points. "What's gotten you so…uptight, Bakura?" 

I closed my eyes, just letting the feeling of relaxation wash over me. "I've just been brooding, that's all. It's nothing really important," I lied with ease, idly contemplating how easy it had now become to lie again. 

"Well, it's got to be something if it's making you this tense," Yami countered, as he gently kissed my neck. 

"Really, love, it's nothing," I persisted, taking his hand and kissing it gently. "Now quit being such a little nagging bitch about it." 

Yami laughed and kissed my neck again. "Not the subtle one are you, Bakura?" 

I rolled my eyes. "Subtlety never worked for me." 

***

Long after Yami was asleep, I laid awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I felt dirty, dirty for letting Malik kiss me, and I felt … _guilty_ for lying to Yami. Turning my head slightly, I saw his peaceful sleeping figure. Getting up silently, I grabbed a shirt from the dresser and put it on, opening the sliding doors to go on the balcony. "I don't like being toyed with," I said quietly, my voice lowering and filling with the hate that had once consumed me. "I don't like being jerked around, no one does that to me. No one plays with me." 

_Well things aren't going to go your way this time._

I spun around and looked around wildly for the voice. "What the hell? Who is that?" I demanded in a hushed voice, careful not to wake Yami.

_I think you already know who this is, Bakura_.

"Malik…" I almost hissed the name. "What do you want…and I want a freaking answer this time, you bastard." 

_With an attitude like that, I think I'll just play this game some more. Bakura…how the mighty have fallen…_

"I have no time to be trading cliché's with you, Malik," I hissed, clenching my fists. "You won't be getting your hands on Yami. You won't get him." 

_My dear, lovely Bakura…whoever said I wanted Yami? _

My eyes widened and my mind raced at what he could mean. "What…you're lying to me. You have to be here for Yami. There's no other reason you'd come all the way to Egypt to here other than him." 

_I think, Bakura, you're going to have…a change of heart before this is over._

Clenching my fists, I was about to utter a rebuttal that would surely shut him up, but I could feel his presence no longer. Just as I was about to go back inside, a Duel Monsters card fluttered to my feet. "What the hell?" I bent over and picked the card up, my eyes widening as I saw what it was. "Change of Heart…" 

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-TBC-

Author's notes: It's my birthday as I post this (September 26) and the beginning of my Yami's rampage on this fic. ^_^ Please review and thanks for the support! Peace! 


	3. Desire

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Chapter 3"Desire." 

Sasha: Here is the re-worked chapter 3. I finally got an idea of how this chapter should have been. I apologise again for the mess that was chapter 3 before. I got some time and fully exploited my ideas. I hope it shows. Please enjoy. 

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Malik opened the door the spacious house he had purchased and closed the door swiftly. It was sparsely furnished, as he didn't see the need of buying things for a house he would need only for a while. His henchmen were no where in sight; they stayed at the other end of the house, where most of the bedrooms were. There was not a sound in the house; the deadly silence something Malik preferred. The soft jingling of his earrings was the only sound, and it echoed through the great halls. 

His stomach rumbled and Malik frowned. He didn't realise that he hadn't anything to eat since the lunch hour at school, and even then, he barely ate anything. Picking up the phone, he dialled the number for the local pizza place. In a bored voice, he ordered a pepperoni pizza and waited for the delivery. While he waited, his mind went immediately to Bakura. The white-haired devil had been in his thoughts since they first crossed paths. His sister Isis told him of Bakura back in Egypt, and Malik was interested in the boy from the very start. But he was disappointed to see and hear how much Bakura had softened up. 

'He's lost that evil flare that made him a force to be reckoned with,' Malik thought, running his tongue over the top row of his teeth. 'But I know deep inside, he hasn't changed. People do not change.' His eyes narrowed as he remembered the source of Bakura's disappointing transformation. 'That Pharaoh is the cause of my problems. That bastard's will caused the death of my father…and now he turned the one I want most into some kind of pile of mush. I won't have it.' 

Being so lost in his thoughts, Malik almost didn't hear the doorbell ring, signalling the arrival of his pizza. Malik pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and opened the door to reveal a boy about his age wearing the pizza place uniform holding a pizza box. "Here's your pizza. That'll be 13.95." Malik gave him the money and soon he was on his way. He shut the door and opened the box. Walking to the kitchen, Malik lifted up a slice and began munching on it as he set the box down. 

Noticing a crumble of bread on the counter, Malik's eyes flared as he grabbed a cloth and swiped up the conniving crumble. His purple eyes widened a little as he realised that there was a little blob of mayonnaise beside the crumble. They narrowed to little slits as he glared at the unsuspecting blob. As he stared at it, he realised that the blob had hardened. Wetting the cloth in his hand slightly, he attacked the blob of hardened mayonnaise, pressing hard to the counter in hopes of ridding the stain from the white countertop. 

As he was feverishly attacking the blob, he suddenly stopped. "I shouldn't be concentrating on this counter. I have more important things to worry about." 

Walking up to his room, Malik's thoughts returned to Bakura. Reaching the room, Malik sifted through his minimal belongings to find a picture that he had drawn of Bakura from memory. With uncharacteristic gentleness, Malik's slender fingers traced the lines of Bakura's face. Coincidentally, it looked more like his light, but Malik didn't change it. It had a cross between an innocent face and the face of a murderer. 

That's why Malik wanted Bakura to be his. To have someone that was so much like him, someone that understood the importance of revenge and how far one must go to achieve it. He was much like Malik himself, who was on the path of revenge against the Pharaoh. Yami Yugi was playing both him and Bakura. Malik's body tensed as he thought of what happened to his father all those years ago. He was murdered, and what for? For the Pharaoh's will? He was going to show that Pharaoh whose will was stronger. 

Malik walked over to a bookshelf filled with thick books, all written in ancient Egyptian. He picked out one thick one in particular and opened it on the desk. Flipping through, he found the page he was looking for. "This ceremony…this is what I need." In reality, Malik knew that he didn't want Bakura just for his past bloodlust. Deep inside, what Malik needed was someone that knew the pain he was going through, what he always went through. Throughout his life, he had met no one that was like him, no one that understood what he was going through, save for Rishid. Even then…Rishid couldn't give him the one thing that his heart desired…and that was someone to love. Someone that you could call your own. Malik's hand rested on the desk and clenched into a fist. But someone always had to deny him his peace of mind. That person was Yami. "Pharaoh…as much as I would like too, your blood will not spill. But Bakura's…he and I we will be bonded. And you will finally feel the pain that I so greatly wish to cause upon you."

***

Standing in the hallways, Yami stared at the door of his and Bakura's room. Bakura had seemed distracted and distant since yesterday and he was really concerned about him. When they had come home today, Bakura had immediately disappeared to cloister himself away in the room and hadn't been heard from since. Yami reached out and rapped lightly on the wood with his knuckles, eliciting no response from inside. 

Sighing, he turned the doorknob and the door swung open silently. The room was as he had left it this morning and he glanced around first, noting idly that they should really clean up the clothes scattered about. Bakura was sitting on the hastily made bed, staring at the opposite wall with an unreadable expression on his face. 

Yami crossed the room silently, never taking his eyes off Bakura who made no indication of having seen or heard Yami's entrance. Seating himself beside Bakura on the wrinkled bed sheets, he reached out and tentatively rested his hand on Bakura's leg. Still nothing. He moved in a bit closer and looked at Bakura's face, his own features creased with worry.

"What's the matter?" he asked in a quiet tone.

"It's nothing."

"Well it has to be something, and something serious to have turned you into a zombie," Yami said logically. "Please talk to me, maybe I can help."

"You can't help. It's just something I have to deal with on my own. Okay?" Finally Bakura turned, looking into Yami's eyes. He was visibly upset and Yami leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. 

"Alright, I guess… but if you change your mind and want to talk to me about this, about _anything_, just find me, okay? Anytime." Bakura nodded, dropping his gaze and Yami squeezed his knee gently and ran his hand lightly up Bakura's thigh as he stood and turned to go. He turned as he opened the door. "I love you," he said with a faint smile before he turned and left, closing the door behind him. Bakura nodded, clenching his hands into fists and feeling even more miserable and confused.

"Why did you have to come back, Malik? Why couldn't you just leave me alone, stay away and let me be happy for once…?" Deciding that thinking about the blond-haired youth and his intentions would do nothing but further depress him, Bakura flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

***

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Bakura's POV 

I felt like utter crap as I woke up to find myself alone. I remembered my earlier conversation with Yami. The guilt was eating me alive, and it had only been two days at the least. He was so considerate, so trusting, and here I am shelling myself away from something that took so much emotional trauma in that basement to achieve. Malik was just playing with my mind. That's all he was doing. Damn him for knowing what really pushes my buttons. In a way, he was worse than Yami when it came to that.

Yami…thinking of him brings back the pang of guilt. I have to tell him what's been bothering me. No! I can't…how can I tell him something that I myself doesn't even understand? What will I say? I clenched the bed sheet in my left hand, knowing that my nails were digging into my palm through the thin fabric. Ryou's words of advice flooded into my head, 'you've got to trust him, Bakura. This relationship won't work if you don't trust him. Open up to him like you have to me.' 

I don't think I can do that, Aibou. I don't think I could ever fully open up to someone. It's enough that I let you see who I really was, but to do it all over again, I haven't the strength. And it's just fine with me. I wasn't all for happy-go-lucky free-flowing trustiness floating around the place and it just wasn't in my nature. I got up, brushing the wrinkles out of my clothes and walked out of the room. 

There wasn't much to do, and in the massive house, I barely had the patience to go and try to find Aibou, Yugi or … Yami… so I walked around in aimless circles, having no real destination and believe it or not, I wasted two hours doing this. It was dark by the time I found my way back to my room and Yami's, but when I tried to turn the knob, it was locked. "Yami," I called, "open up the door." 

"No!" came the fierce reply. 

I blinked several times. "Yami, open the door. It's my room as well ya know." 

"Tough luck, you're not sleeping with me tonight," Yami shot back; sounding very, very pissed off. I stared blankly at the door. What was his problem all of a sudden?

"Can I ask what I did wrong?" I asked, rapping on the door. 

"You _know_ what the hell you did wrong," Yami snapped, and I noted the unfamiliar undercurrent of extreme hatred in his powerful voice. It didn't sound like him, but at the same time, it did. I felt hurt, a little angry and frustrated. I wasn't about to go and play guessing games with a PMS-ing Pharaoh. Kicking at the door with my shoe, I turned around and went down the hall to another spare room. 

"What's his problem?" I muttered, feeling irrationally bitter and frustrated. Usually it doesn't take this short of a time to really get me going, but for some reason today, everything seemed to get me angry exceedingly fast. Then it hit me—he was getting back at me for not telling him what was wrong before. Instantly, the mood changed from bitterness and anger to guilt and depression. 

Growling, I got up and punched the wall. The surge of pain that radiated from the contact of my fist to the wall sent shock waves running through me. I felt most of the anger flow from my fist to the wall. The 'thud' was heard most likely through most of the house, yet no one left their rooms to come and see. I don't think I would've had to explain anything anyway. I stared at the dent in the light blue painted wall, noticing the small little dents and fractures. "Why can I ever be fucking happy…" I muttered, slamming my back into the wall. I clutched my head, falling to my knees. "I should go back to my old ways … forget all this conscience crap…just go back to being a heartless bastard…you can't get hurt that way. You can't have these feelings of guilt if you don't have a heart…

"People don't change. Why have I changed, then? If people never change, but adapt to their new situations, continuing on in their old ways, why can't I do that? Ra, is this some kind of cruel joke?" I said to myself, clenching my fists again around my hair. The sharp pain that coursed through my body at the action of nearly pulling out my hair seemed to soothe me. I gripped at my hair harder, finding comfort in the sharp pain. Pain it seems, is the only thing I know, desire, and the only fucking thing that could ever comfort me… 

****

-TBC-

Sasha: That looks much better. I'm more pleased with this. I'm not completely pleased with it, but I am not going to change any more of it. I'm going to be checking over the chapters and making changes as I see them. 


	4. Dirty Games

****

Chapter 4"Dirty games." 

Sasha: *runs out of her soul room* YAHAHAHA! I got out! Um, yes … I apologise for the last chapter; it's mushy angst stuff and really weird…I'll make up for it! Sorry, sorry about the confusion, I'm going to rework the third chapter sometime later, but for now, accept my apologies? I was having a bad writing day. A REALLY BAD writing day. Here's where things are going to get kicked up a notch. And to stave off more confusion, this chapter begins in Yami Malik's perspective and stays so until otherwise noted.

***

Through my mind's eye, I could see Bakura's frustrations come to the surface, not quite believing that his lover could pull a 180 quite like that. It was all going smoothly so far. But I couldn't wait for this to go on too long. For something like this, it needs to be quick and sudden, so that any second doubts will not arise. My Aibou wasn't sure about hurting his friend, Ryou, but I assured him that it wasn't Ryou we were hurting, it was Yami Yugi. And the bonus of this was that not only do we get the revenge we so hungrily desire, but we also get the one soul that whose former thirst for blood rivalled my own. 

I closed my eyes slightly, letting the rush flow through my veins. I let out a small breath of air as I opened them again. Controlling Yami took a lot power, more so than it usually did for mortals, because he was the Pharaoh and had extraordinary control over his mind. Surprising since he had such a feeble one to begin with. But it was all worth it for the end result. I would have to be in control in order to take control of Yami's mind, but my Aibou and myself were willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish this plan. 

The next morning I kept in control of my Aibou, going to school, as I had done the previous day. Only once had he gone in control, and that was when we had registered. I made sure to keep out of sight from Yami, his Aibou and their friends. The day passed by quickly and I noticed that in my 3rd period class, Ryou got transferred into it. Shit. This wasn't going to play out in my favour. My Aibou liked Ryou as a friend, but his feelings about Bakura were stronger than friendship. Bakura shared a bond with us—a bond fuelled by revenge and blood. I stayed hidden in the back of the room, keeping my head down. 

Idly, throughout the class, I found myself staring at Bakura's Aibou and becoming more and more angry; noting how much Bakura had turned into his light. There was going to be no more thinking of this, there is only going to be action. As soon as the class ended, I rushed out of the class, ignoring the girl who was tugging at my sleeve. Finally I stopped and glared at her. "What the hell do you want?" I demanded.

She didn't seem at all phased by my snap, and pointed to Ryou. "I saw you were glaring at him throughout class. How could you hate Ryou so much?"

"I don't hate him," I blurted, cursing at my Aibou for taking a liking to the kid. "And it's not like it's any of your business." Abruptly, I turned and walked down the hall to where the Chemistry lab was. Immediately, I sat down in my seat, and smirked as I saw Bakura step into the classroom. The evil glint that was always evident in his eyes until recently had returned. He sat down and stared at the board with utter hatred. "Something the matter, Bakura?" I asked innocently.

"Fuck off," Bakura said without hesitation, gripping his binder's spine until his knuckles turned white. "I don't want to deal with you." 

"Like I'd ever take orders from a softie anyway," I snickered, running a hand through my hair. Bakura turned with a jerk towards me and glared. 

**Bakura's POV**

My day had been utter shit, and now it had gotten worse when Malik decided to talk to me. "Don't even fuck with me today, Ishtar," I said evenly, determined not to let him win. "I've had it up to here…" I put my hand to my neck, "with everything. I don't need you on my case as well so just do me a favour and do the one thing that you never seem able to do—SHUT UP!" 

"You're creating a scene," Yami Malik pointed out, smirking.

"I don't give a rat's ass if I am!" I snapped. I glared down at my binder. "You're the cause of all my problems." 

"Oh, I am?" Yami Malik feigned shock and smirked. "Just because I'm here doesn't mean you can blame your failures on me. You've lost your edge, Bakura. You used to be feared… everyone that came across including your Aibou used to tremble at the mere mention of your name. Now you're a loser. It's understandable you'd have a short temper." 

I clenched my fists, restraining myself from knocking him on his scrawny ass. I breathed out evenly, and looked back at him. "Just shut the fuck up." As I said this, I found Yami Malik's hand on my own. "Get your filthy hand off of me." 

"I don't want to," Yami Malik shot back, causing me to raise an eyebrow. "You do realise who's causing all of this pain to you?" 

"You?" I asked wearily. 

"No you fool, Yami." 

I stared at him like he had three heads, not even bothering with his hand on my own anymore. "How is Yami the cause of all this? You're the one who fucking came out of no where and disrupted everything. YOU are the cause of my grief, Ishtar." 

Yami Malik held my eyes with those devilish purple orbs of his and shook his head. "You've been blinded, Bakura. You've been blinded by those whom you deem your friends…the guilt that you feel, you wouldn't feel it if it weren't for Yami's hold on your spirit. Nothing's happened, yet you feel like you've done something wrong. But you haven't done anything wrong, only Yami. He's accused you of something, hasn't he? It's written all over your face, Bakura. You used to be a mystery, an enigma, and now you're wearing your emotions on your sleeve…and you think _I_ caused this pain to you?"

I stayed silent as Yami Malik laid out his argument. It made my skin crawl to admit it, but he had some very good points. Wearily, I rubbed the sleep that was creeping to my eyes and sighed. "I must be severely sleep deprived if _your _demented logic makes sense." 

"You're not sleep deprived," Yami Malik whispered, squeezing my hand. "You know I speak the truth this time, Bakura. Yami is the one causing this." Was he right? Was I wrong? Was I wrong for believing that this was my fault? Now that I seriously thought about it, I had done nothing to incite Yami's wrath the day before. For most of today, he had acted like I had done something wrong when I asked what last night was about. Either he was playing stupid, or he had the worst memory ever imagined. "Just tell him what you feel. I know you don't like this deep down, Bakura. You're going to do something about it." 

"You're right," I found myself agreeing, the confidence swelling inside me once more. "I have to do something about this. I won't be kicked around by anyone." I looked over at the teacher who had walked in, and failed to notice Yami Malik's lips curling into a smirk…

**Yami Malik's POV**

After school, I saw Bakura take Yami's arm and pull him out of sight and earshot of the group of idiots they called friends. I sat in a tree above them, hidden from their view and looked down. I smirked…these two were more entertaining than I first thought. Bakura pulled Yami over to him and looked pissed off. "I want some answers," Bakura started.

Yami looked at him oddly. "Answers for what, Bakura? You've been acting strangely lately. What's been bothering you?" 

Bakura's hazel eyes flared, as if his intelligence had been insulted. "Your sudden mood swings have been bothering me, Yami. Or have you conveniently forgotten that you threw a PMS fit at me yesterday? That's the reason I wasn't in our room last night." 

Yami's amethyst eyes clouded with confusion and I held back a laugh. I pulled out my Millennium Rod from my uniform jacket pocket and closed my eyes. I focused in on Yami's mind and quickly grabbed control over it. "I haven't forgotten, Bakura," I mouthed, hearing Yami's voice project my words, "but I still stand by what I said. If you don't know what you did, there's no reason for me to tell you so you can figure out your error on your own." 

"Why do you still talk to me as if I'm some infernal child?!" Bakura demanded, almost letting his voice raise to the point where their friends could hear their argument. 

"Because you are acting like one," I mouthed, keeping the smirk from appearing on my face. Bakura wasn't an easy person to fool, and I was surprised he hadn't noticed the change in Yami's eyes. But I wasn't complaining. I'll take anything I can fucking get. "You haven't been fully honest with me, Bakura, so why should I spill everything to you?" 

Bakura recoiled at this, and I winced slightly, noting the hurt look that flashed across his gorgeous hazel eyes. Quickly though, he recovered and retained his usual expression. I kept my eyes closed, keeping my grip tight on my Millennium Rod. I could feel the power draining from me, but I would have to keep this going for as long as I could, to ensure the results I wanted. "What's the matter with _you_ Yami? Why are you suddenly acting like I did something wrong when I've done absolutely nothing?" 

I kept silent for a moment, pondering the best way to put this. I knew what I wanted to say, but the key was to say it in such a manner that Bakura would undoubtedly believe that it was Yami Yugi saying this and not me. He was used to Yami's style of speech, and he clearly knew what my speech was like. "But you have done something, Bakura. And what you've done … I hate you for it." 

Bakura's eyes widened, not believing the words that had come out of Yami's mouth. For a split second I almost panicked, wondering if he had seen through the façade. "You hate me?" He whispered, his true vulnerability showing through.

"Yes," I mouthed, making Yami's voice sound firmer. "I hate you for it. Playing these games with me, I don't know what to expect from you. You've left me in the dark and you know how I hate to be kept in darkness." 

Bakura's eyes flared now, and I idly admired how expressive his eyes were. Not only did they convey the bloodlust he had, in the past shown frequently, but also could allow me to see into his soul for the first time. A slight pang of guilt hit my stomach as I looked at his slightly hurt but even more so angry eyes. Argh, screw that! "Well maybe this isn't about you anymore Yami! I thought you had changed…but you haven't…by Ra, you haven't changed your fucking attitude one bit!" 

"It's not me that's changed," I mouthed, making sure to make Yami's voice sound its usual 'holier-than-thou' tone. "It's you that's changed Bakura. Back to the way you used to be." I made him fold his arms and give a 'I look down upon you' glance that those Pharaohs often gave. "You were never that good to me." 

"How can you say that … how can you fucking say that!" Bakura accused, clenching his fists to the point they bled. "Screw this … I don't…I can't deal with this." Turning on his heel, Bakura grabbed his shoulder-pack and stalked off. I opened my eyes and released control of Yami's mind. I refrained from groaning but put a hand to my head. Quietly, I got up and made a quiet exit from the tree, and walking away, eventually finding Bakura. "Just great… my day has officially been fucked up now!" 

I ignored the remark, and kept my expression dark. "You know I'm not the one your frustrations should be directed at. Obviously, you're not going to go home tonight, are you?" Bakura raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at me.

"And just what the hell are you suggesting?" he demanded. 

"Come with me to my house. You can stay there for the night. You do not want to stay in a house with someone who has clearly hurt you. I can tell there's been disturbance. Who would you rather be with right now? Someone who has taken advantage of your feelings, or someone who understands you better than you understand yourself?" 

Bakura looked unsure at first, but then nodded. "All right, I'll come. But don't think this is making us friends, Ishtar."

"Friends?" I laughed at the thought, a smirk on my face. "Oh, I won't ever think we're friends, Bakura." On the contrary, I think we're something more…

****

-TBC-

Sasha: There! I'm pleased with this more than the ending of Chapter 3. I know this may be moving along a little fast, but please look past that; it needs to move fast for the sake of the plot. Please review with your feedback, and if you have any suggestions, please let me know! I'm open to anything. ^___^ 


	5. Bonded by Blood

****

Chapter 5"Bonded by blood." 

Author's notes: OK, my Yami and me have worked out a deal. We'll work together on this chapter. Only because I kinda bribed her with pictures of Malik…those two are too much alike; it's really scary. Um, to Talia Ali, yes it is weird that they all moved in together, and um … how about we just say that Ryou's dad off on a long business trip? ^_^; I don't know. I'm praying everyone will just roll with the punches…that and I'm amazed no one's asked about what happened to Yugi's grandfather. I said he was living there, but not once did the guy show up! Heh…oh well, please review! This begins in 3rd person, because it's just easier that way to advance the plot. Please don't kill me for the ending of this chapter…

*** 

Bakura looked around un-surely as he entered the house behind Yami Malik. The house was sparsely furnished, and he wondered idly if he was going to sleep on some newspaper in the basement. Knowing Yami Malik's tendencies, it wasn't that far of a stretch. The house smelled of spices, and Bakura closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the smell of exotic flavours. 'Someone remind me why I did this again,' Bakura thought regretfully. "I suppose I should say thanks for inviting me." 

"Think nothing of it, Bakura," Yami Malik's tone had softened, and Bakura raised an eyebrow. "And before you say it, yes you do have a room, not the floor." Yami Malik walked up the steps, followed closely by Bakura, who was still unsure of this entire situation. Yami Malik soon stopped at a room and opened it. "Here." 

"No shackles? I'm surprised," Bakura said dryly, peering inside. 

"The invitation was sincere, Bakura," Yami Malik replied, the soft tone still present. Suddenly, his light took over, and the harsh look that was in Yami Malik's eyes vanished, but still held a slight glimpse of determination. "I'll leave you for a moment. One of the help will come and get you for dinner." Malik turned around and left Bakura alone in the room.

Bakura took off his shoulder-pack, and glanced around, seeing a computer. He sat down, and turned it on. After waiting for everything to load, Ryou's yami, after learning all the technical stuff from his Aibou, checked his hotmail. He was surprised and angered to see an email from Yami. Curiously though, he clicked on it and read it. 

__

Bakura,

I don't know where you are, so I figured I'd try this confounded contraption, and email you. Where are you? I don't remember what happened to cause you to not come home, but it's been past a reasonable time if you had gone out… I wouldn't have minded if you had gone out for a little with your friends, (that is, if you hadn't killed them already) but you didn't even tell your Aibou where you were going. Bakura, please come back. 

You're mad at me, I can tell. But what did I do? Joey told me that he saw you leave with some guy with blonde hair. Why haven't you phoned, Bakura? I'm worried about you…I suppose I should stop rambling now. Please email me back…I want to know where you are…

Yami 

Frowning, Bakura's fingers hovered over the 'reply' command. Something suddenly stopped him, and an old glint of bitterness flashed in his eyes. 'Why should I email him back? I don't have to respond to him like a little child. This is just like him, being a Pharaoh. But…I shouldn't have just left without telling someone where I was going. That's it I'm going to—' Just as Bakura's finger was about to press the 'reply' command, Malik entered. 

"I want you to meet someone," Malik said, keeping his left hand on the doorknob. Bakura raised an eyebrow, but got up, turning off the computer, and walking over to Malik. "I figure it's best for you to meet him now then tomorrow and risk having him die by your lovely morning behaviour." 

"And just how the hell do you know what I act like in the morning?" Bakura demanded, raising his eyebrow yet again. 

Malik gave him a rare smile, "Because you act like me." Bakura's eyes narrowed a little at the mere thought of being compared to someone as off-kilter as Malik Ishtar. As he walked through the door, Malik said, "you're more like me than you know." His voice lowered, to a tone that Bakura was surprised to hear pain and suffering filter through, "we both were hurt and betrayed by that Pharaoh." 

Bakura blinked a few times, his hazel eyes clouding with confusion. He studied the older boy's features; they were now creased with pain, and anger. For a brief moment, Bakura got a glimpse into the inner turmoil that racked the Ishtar heir. "Pull yourself together," Bakura found himself saying, trying to keep his tone normal. "God, you're falling apart, Ishtar." A smirk rose to his lips, a cross between a smile and a smirk, as Malik turned to him, giving Ryou's yami a scoff. 

"He's waiting," Malik said finally, and led Bakura down to the living room, where a tall figure stood, wearing a dark purple cloak. The clothes, Bakura realised were Egyptian, and the presence felt like Malik's. "Rishid, this is the one I told you about." Bakura blinked. He'd been talked about? Uneasiness washed over the silver-haired tomb robber. "Bakura, this is…my most trusted henchmen, and my best friend—Rishid." 

The man turned around and Bakura was slightly startled at the stunning calmness in Rishid's eyes. They had the same type of design as Malik's, but they held a fierce loyalty inside, and Bakura knew he wasn't dealing with just anyone. "So, you're Bakura," Rishid's tenor voice said, and Bakura nodded once. "Malik was right about you." 

"Right about me in what context? Did he tell you I was a psychopath? Did he tell you that my life is now in shambles? Did he tell you that a Pharaoh is the focal point of it all?" Bakura suddenly blurted out, the anger suddenly rushing out of him. Malik blinked for a moment, not expecting such a violent reaction from Bakura. Rishid nodded to his master, and Malik left the room, whilst Bakura was forcing himself to calm down. 

"You must calm yourself first of all," Rishid advised his voice still deep and powerful, but now a tone lighter. "I just want to converse with you, Bakura." 

"Well then, converse away," Bakura said flippantly, folding his arms. Rishid pushed the hood of his cloak off, and Bakura stood steadfast, noting the many Egyptian hieroglyphics on Rishid's face, which mirrored the ones on Malik's back. "Are you in on this little conspiracy too?"

"What gives you the idea that there's a conspiracy?" Rishid asked, raising an eyebrow. "You tomb-robbers are a temperamental sort. Don't trust anyone, that had been your motto, correct Bakura?" Taking Bakura's silence as a sign to continue, Rishid said, "I sense a deep turmoil inside of you, Bakura. Not just what you're going through now, but what's been tormenting you all along." 

"And just what would that b—" Bakura was abruptly cut off by a blunt object on a collision course with his head. A sick 'thud' was heard as Bakura's body hit the floor. Rishid silently picked up the inert form, and carried him to the basement. There, he lay the boy on a golden table, the room illuminated solely by candles. Rishid looked over at the table beside Bakura's, where Malik lay, his arm laying over a basin-like structure. Malik's arm was bleeding into a silver chalice. Working quickly, Rishid took off Bakura's shirts, and put his arm over his chest. Picking up a sharp dagger, Rishid held it up to the light, letting the blade glisten. The first henchman injected anaesthetic into Bakura, so he would stay unconscious. 

Walking over to Bakura's right side, where his right arm was the one laying across his chest, Rishid turned the silver haired boy on his side, whilst two henchmen held him steady. Swiftly, Rishid slid the blade of the dagger across Bakura's previously flawless skin. With deadly precision, he carved a strange Egyptian hieroglyph that translated stood for 'bound for eternity'. He turned to a third henchman. "Hand me the chalice." The henchman nodded, and handed Rishid a silver chalice that held Malik's blood. Using a modified funnel, Rishid poured Malik's blood into the grove of the scar he had given Bakura. Reciting a chant in ancient Egyptian, Rishid said, "The ceremony is complete. They are bonded by blood. Get Master Ishtar and Bakura to their respective rooms." 

***

As Bakura regained consciousness, he felt a sharp and searing pain in his right arm. He groaned and tried to sit up, only to have something push him back down. Bakura grunted in protest, but was too weak from the anaesthesia to do much about it. After a bit, Bakura managed to open his eyes, and when he did, he was surprised to see Malik, not his yami, tending to him. Malik took Bakura's hand and checked the bandage, gently putting the arm back at Bakura's side. "Why are you doing this?" Bakura managed, his voice sounding full of pain and fatigue. 

"Because Yami won't," was Malik's swift reply. It was a sharp jab to Bakura's heart, but deep inside, like a trapped animal waiting to be freed; his soul was beginning to agree. Bakura noticed that there was a bandage on Malik's arm. 

"What happened to you? Couldn't handle a kitchen knife?" Bakura teased, his hoarse tone giving the verbal jab no punch. 

"It's no concern what happened to me. How do you feel?" Malik asked, noticing the blood seeping through Bakura's bandage in the pattern of the hieroglyph. Bakura gave a slight groan, sinking further into the bed. "I guess that answers my question." There was a long silence before Malik began to talk. "My father was killed when I was young, a few days after I had gone through the ceremony that put the markings on my back, which serve as the Pharaoh's memory. I was told that his death was the Pharaoh's wish. The Pharaoh had been trapped inside the Millennium Puzzle. 

"Ever since that point in time, I felt an intense hatred of Yami Yugi. It was because of _him_ that my father had to die, and for what?" Malik clenched his fist, ignoring the pain that shot through his body because of his sore arm. "Since then, I've wanted to make Yami feel the pain, feel the pain of losing someone close to him." He turned to Bakura. "He's done the same to you, hasn't he? He's hurt you badly, because in his mind he believes that everything centres around him." 

"Shut up," Bakura protested weakly, "Yami isn't like that a—"

"Anymore?" Malik finished for Bakura, his eyebrow raised. "Are you so sure? He's taken away the most important thing anyone could ever take from you Bakura—he took your heart, and for a while, it may have seemed like all was well, but he's a Pharaoh. He still looks down upon you, and you know it." 

Bakura was silenced for a moment; Malik's words hitting home. He thought about what had occurred between he and Yami earlier that day after school. It was almost a déjà vu of what happened all those millennia ago. 'Yami did mean all those things,' Bakura thought, clenching his left fist. 'Every single word was the truth! And you foolishly believed him. Did you honestly think that everything would be peachy keen because you thought he actually changed? He…' 

"Hasn't changed one little bit," Malik's voice cut through Bakura's thoughts. "He hasn't changed at all, Bakura. If he had changed, he's quickly reverting back to the way he was before. Your love doesn't mean anything to him." 

Bakura growled, his mind clearly believing everything Malik was telling him. Everything was making sense now. Everything now had a reason, if it didn't before, of why it occurred, especially Yami's change in behaviour. "I want nothing to do with that bastard anymore," Bakura said, his voice strong with conviction. "Absolutely nothing." Malik stood up and put a hand to Bakura's left arm. Giving a small assuring nod, he left the room, to leave the silver-haired yami alone with his thoughts. 

***

It was a long weekend, and Malik, on the second day of this long weekend, was glad to see that Bakura was reverting quickly back to his old self. He had succeeded, and looked at his arm, where the same hieroglyph was carved, mixed with Bakura's blood. 'The ceremony was a success. Bakura and I are bonded by blood. We share emotions now, and my hatred for that Pharaoh will no doubt transfer to Bakura. But it won't be for a day more until the transfusion is complete.' 

The doorbell rang, and Malik raised an eyebrow. Who would come here at this hour? He walked to the door and opened it, his eyes widening at who he found at the door. "Is Bakura here?" Yami demanded, his deep voice filled with worry. "You! You are…" 

"Malik Ishtar," Malik said, nodding. "What do you want, Yami?" 

"I have already told you what I want. Where is Bakura?" Yami repeated, clenching his fists. "I finally figured that you were the one that left with him. Where is he?!" 

Malik was beginning to panic inside. This was not what he was expecting, or what he wanted. If Bakura saw Yami here, and put two and two together, with Yami's confusion and his sudden kindness to him, all was lost. He gritted his teeth and kept his hand gripped tightly on the doorknob. "Is it any of your business if he is here, Pharaoh? You seemed a little too eager to get one of your followers back." 

"He's not my follower!" Yami burst out, "I love him!" 

"Oh, really," Malik sneered, snorting a little. He put a hand on his hip and looked sceptically at the King of Games. Yami looked a cross between frantic and now angry at the mockery he was receiving at the hands of the Ishtar heir. "If you really loved him that much, why is he here instead of with you?" 

Yami looked caught at that question. "I…I do not know! But that's why I'm here! I'm here to get some answers, and I don't trust you, Ishtar! Where is Bakura?" he demanded, the Millennium Puzzle glowing brightly. "Answer me!" 

"I'm right here, Pharaoh," Bakura's voice, dripping with evil replied, as he stepped past a surprised Malik to stand on the second step, in front of Yami. Yami's eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly—this was a completely different Bakura. He was as Yami remembered in the Duellist Kingdom. "So you want to know where I was, eh? Couldn't handle the fact I wasn't right in your sight…that I was going to run off and misbehave? Is that it?" He folded his arm, careful of his bandaged right arm. 

The King of Games' mouth opened and closed for a moment, not knowing how to answer the accusation. "I would never think of you that way Bakura! Who's been planting these seeds of suspicion in your head?" 

"No one's planted any suspicion in my head but you, Yami," Bakura snapped, surprising the young Duellist. "I've been thinking these past few days. And I've come to one conclusion: it's about time you felt some pain." He flicked a card at Yami. 

"Change of Heart…this is Ryou's favourite card," Yami said, peering at the duel monsters card. He looked up at Bakura confusedly. "What does this have to do with anything? Are you challenging me to a duel?" 

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "I didn't think it was possible for someone to be so stupid! I've had a change of heart, so to speak, Yami. I've realised the one thing that you've been hiding from me. You still look down on me. And no one looks down on me. Not anymore." 

Yami looked to be on the verge of tears, the emotional frustration was that high. "Bakura, after all we've been through, do you love me?" he asked, as if the entire world, and in his mind, it did, depended on Bakura's answer. 

Bakura looked at Yami with a cold, murderous gaze. "I never did." Yami stepped back, his face showing how Bakura's words crushed him in an instant. Yami was about to turn and leave, when he noticed a strange pattern that the blood was seeping through on Bakura's right arm. Making a mental note to check it later, Yami turned his back. As Yami left in the shadows of the night, Bakura turned to Malik, who looked surprised still. "Isn't the way you wanted me, Malik?" he questioned.

Malik's lips curled into a smirk. "This is the way you were meant to be." Bakura moved up one step, and put his hand on the warm skin of Malik's shoulder. Moving closer still, Bakura pressed his lips to Malik's, the kiss intensifying quickly. Malik was drowning in the passion and fury of the kiss, and knew inside that all his work had paid off. 'We are bonded now…and forever. Blood does not fade. It seems I have the final laugh, Pharaoh.' 

****

-TBC-

Author's notes: Um…not much to say but 'please don't kill me!'. Please review with your feedback, but no death-threats, okay? ^^; Chapter 3's revision will be done soon. But Bio's evil and my teacher's a moron. Until next time…same angst channel, same angst fic! 


	6. I can't take anymore

****

Chapter 6"I can't take anymore." 

Author notes: Yes, your eyes haven't deceived you, this is me working on the story. The Magician of Black Chaos is helping me with MD so YAY! This is probably the last chapter of Scars and Tears. Someone requested I put something in here with the lights and Yami. Will he give up Bakura so easily? You bet the money Bakura swiped he won't! Will he succeed is the question. Thanks everyone for the support. And very sorry about the delay, Writer's block is more a bitch than Yami Malik being an insomniac is. 

***

Yami walked down the sidewalk from Malik's house until he was out of eyeshot, and then ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the library, which he knew, was open late. Just as he reached the building, his cell phone rang. "Hello?" He answered hastily. 

The voice on the other end was his Aibou. "Yami? What's the matter? Did you find Bakura yet?" Yugi asked. There was silence and Yami's light blinked in confusion on the other end. "Yami? Are you there? Did you find Bakura?" 

"Yes," Yami said, his voice breaking. "With Malik Ishtar." 

"What? He's in Domino?" Yugi asked, blinking. "Since when?" 

"For a while now. That's what's been wrong with Bakura all this time. But…it seems he is not the Bakura I'm in love with." 

"What are you talking about?" 

Yami began walking at a brisk pace to the doors of the library. "I don't have time to explain, Aibou. Malik's changed him. Back to the way he was before." 

Yugi paused. "Where are you?" 

"I'm going to the library." 

"We're coming. Ryou will want to come. We'll be there soon," Yugi said. Yami gave his agreement, and opened the doors, walking in. Not noticing the familiar figure seated a table; Yami made his way to the history section. He quickly browsed through the shelves and found a book on ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. Unfortunately for other people, the book was in hieroglyphs, but Yami could read the symbols, and opened the book on a nearby table, flipping to the near middle of the book. 

"C'mon, by Ra, where is it?" Yami muttered, flipping pages like mad. "There!" He breathed out a sigh as he read the ancient language: 

__

This symbol is carved into the arm, swift and deep, and filled with the blood of another, in the deep groves. Blood sets, and the souls are bonded as if they were by destiny. The other has the same symbol carved in his arm, filled with the blood of the first. Emotions are one, thoughts remain individual. They are bonded for eternity. The ceremony was used by Pharaohs to keep subjects in order—

"No," Yami whispered, putting his palm against the pages. He almost clenched his hands into fists, but remembered that he shouldn't destroy the library's property. "This ceremony…that symbol on Bakura's arm…But who performed it for Malik and Bakura? It had to be someone close with Malik…" 

"Yami!" Yugi's voice pierced Yami's thoughts, and the dark half of Yugi turned around to see his light. "There you are! Did you find anything?" 

Ryou put a hand on Yugi's shoulder and looked at his friend's darker half. "Something's happened, hasn't it? You didn't tell Yugi everything…but could you tell me? I have a feeling it's very important…" 

Yami nodded. "It is, Ryou. More important than anything…" He cleared his throat and forced himself to regain his composure. Slowly, he began to explain all he knew about the situation, and showed Ryou the symbol. "This symbol was carved on Bakura's arm, and Malik's. The ceremony that was performed binds them with each other's blood. They are one, in mind and spirit. I fear it's too late to do much about it." 

Ryou's dark hazel eyes flared a little as he walked up to Yami and swiftly gave him a backhand across the left side of his face. Yami put a hand to his cheek and looked at the usually calm and placid boy in shock. "You can't give up hope so easily. I know you still love my Yami. It shows so clearly in your eyes. And now you're going to give up because of some ancient ceremony? Love is much stronger than some ceremony! Are you going to let the best thing that ever happened to you slip through your grasp again? You must be as dense as yami used to say!" Yami recoiled at the boy's unusually harsh words, but stayed silent. "If you truly want my yami back, you're going to have to fight for him. This ceremony might bind his mind and spirit, but it hasn't taken his heart yet." His features softened, and Ryou put a hand on Yami's shoulders. "For my sake as well…" 

Yami felt a salty tear run down his cheek and put a hand on Ryou's. "I was just over at that house. He specifically told me he wouldn't come back with me. I've hurt him in some way. A way that I have no idea how I did such a thing…Ryou. You're the only one who can get through to him now." 

Ryou closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. "I understand. But I want you to come with me. If we are both there, maybe we can talk some sense into yami." 

Yami shook his head sadly. "I want to go with you, but I can't stand the pain of rejection…it would have more impact if you went, Ryou." 

Bakura's light looked at Yami with worry in his eyes, but nodded. "Yugi, you should go and check on grandpa. Yami…I don't know what good it will do, but please stay here and check on some kind of…I don't know…counter to this ceremony. There must be something. I'll go and see if yami is going to listen…" Both Motous nodded, and Ryou left the library. 

"Here he is back again," Bakura muttered, as he sat on the front steps. The snarl in his look was gone almost immediately as he saw his Aibou, instead of Yami. "Ryou…" 

Malik kept a protective hand on Bakura's shoulder. An unusual sense of guilt began to wave over him as he saw a boy that he had considered a friend. 'What are you doing here Ryou? Damn it…'

Ryou walked up confidently to the steps, and looked to his yami. "What's going on here? Malik, what are you doing in Domino?" 

The blond Egyptian pursed his lips together. "I came to get what Isis predicted was mine, Ryou. Your yami was someone to fear before that Pharaoh destroyed him." 

"He finally found his happiness before you came, Malik," Ryou protested, looking distressed. "I understand your feelings, but if it was meant to be, don't you think it would've happened on its own?" 

"Nothing happens unless you make it happen," Malik countered. "Ryou, you are one of the few people that understand me, and I hope you understand this. The love of Yami and Bakura was doomed from the start. Pharaoh's do not change…he hurt Bakura all those years ago and hurt him again. You must have felt the pain, did you not, Ryou?" 

Ryou stopped, and thought for a moment, frowning. He did feel his darker half's declining mood, one that he kept secret even after the basement fiasco. "Yami caused all this? I refuse to believe it. Yami loves Bakura. I don't know what's transpired between the two of them, but it can't be without good reason." He looked at Malik. "But I assume this is not about Yami, is it? This is about you." 

Malik froze, and refused to show it, but Ryou did see the hesitation in the violet orbs. Bakura was silent, and felt the tanned boy tense tremendously. What the hell was going on? Everything's not what it seemed to be. 'Fair is foul, and foul is fair, is it?' Bakura thought, thinking back to the immortal words of the tyrannical Scottish King, Macbeth. 'I don't know what to think anymore. It's best not to think. It doesn't get you anywhere in a place where actions are what are needed.'

The Ishtar heir's gaze never left Ryou's, and he finally spoke. "I have told you once before. I am merely setting Isis' prediction in motion. I do not wait for fate. Fate doesn't exist for me. You make your own fate, not the stars!" 

"I have a feeling you played foully to get your prophecy fulfilled, am I not right?" Ryou asked, and smiled inside when he saw Malik's eyes flicker with worry. Ryou walked up a few more steps, getting a good look into the troubled eyes of Malik. "I have a feeling that Yami didn't really do all those nasty things, am I right?" 

"What proof do you have of these accusations?" Malik demanded, his tough exterior now rapidly deteriorating. "Ryou, as much as I want to fulfil this prophecy for myself, I would never use such measures, to use such mind games." 

"But your yami would!" Ryou accused, a powerful undercurrent in his usually soft voice. His wide brown eyes were narrowed angrily, and his fists clenched and unclenched. "I know your yami very well, Malik. He would not hesitate to use any measures thought by the mind to get what he wanted. And I know you fully agreed to do whatever he suggested. This is not the way, Malik! You used your Rod to control Yami!" 

Malik growled, and glared at Ryou. "I did no such thing, and where is your proof?" 

Ryou stood his ground, intent on proving to his yami what was really going on. True, he had inferred most of what he was saying, but Malik's responses to the accusations were pure, and the young man knew he was hitting Malik's buttons dead on. "Yami's got a pure heart, and he's been tearing himself apart because he doesn't know what he's done to Bakura that's causing all of this! You controlled him and made him say those things! You—"

"Enough!!" Bakura yelled suddenly, standing up, throwing Malik's arms off of him. "I don't want to hear anymore!" He turned around, walking backwards down the stairs, past his Aibou to the edge of the sidewalk. He ripped off the bandage from his still fresh wound, wincing as the cold air hit the gashes. "So throughout this entire thing, I've been nothing but a pawn? I'm nothing but a prize to you? If it's not Yami, it's you, Malik! Why can't anyone just be fucking straightforward with me?! Why must everyone play me?!" 

Ryou reached out to his darker half, a purely sympathetic look creased in his features. "Bakura…just listen to me…you know I wouldn't lie to you—"

Bakura looked distressed and pissed off like to his lighter half. "I don't know what to believe anymore! For all I know, you could be the next one to turn against me!" He turned to Malik. "Why did you have to come here and destroy my life?" Bakura growled when Malik failed to answer him right away. "Speak up you no good mother fucking…" 

"You know better than anyone what it's like to be hurt." Malik looked up from his stare-down with the porch's steps, and looked at Bakura. "The hurt of what Yami did to you thousands of years ago is much like what his will had done to me. What could I do? You were hopelessly devoted to the one that was destined to hurt you again. I had to do something drastic in order to ensure that you would be mine…" His eyes flashed, and he clenched his fist. "Admit it, if you had the chance, you would've done the same thing. Evil cannot fully die, although it can be stanched, it cannot fully be extracted. You are what you are, Bakura. You are a killer, and you are evil." 

"And you thought by playing with my mind, I'd come to you like a dog to his master?" Bakura snapped, as the blood ran down his arm, down his fingers onto the cold pavement. "You have made one fatal miscalculation in your master plan, Ishtar. I don't respond well to being a pawn in someone's game. I don't…I can't do this anymore. I can't just be good little Bakura, and I just can't be your cold-hearted Killer. I'm something in between, and if you want the cold-hearted killer, that's not me anymore…But you and Yami both want something that I'm not. I'm not completely changed, I'm still the old me, but I'm not fully the old me. And you both want what I was, or what I should be…and since…you can't take me for me…and you seem to just want to play me…I'm…" 

"Going to leave," Ryou finished, and his darker half looked at him a mixture of shock and defeat. "You're going to leave Domino. And you are not leaving without me." 

"I can't let you stay with someone as cursed as me. You're…too good to be taken down the drain with someone like me," Bakura said, his voice cold and un-passionate. Unknown to him, Yami had been standing behind him for the better part of his speech, hearing every word, and was shocked to silence. He had come straight from the library as he had found something that would've countered whatever Malik had done. "You're always a part of me, but I just can't live with this. I have to leave." 

"You are not going without me, yami," Ryou said firmly, walking over to him. Malik noticed Yami and clenched his eyes shut, biting his lip. A thought entered his mind, and he turned around, and went inside the house immediately. Yami Yugi went un-noticed by Bakura and Ryou. "You are my other half, and as much evil as you have done, as much as you think that you don't deserve anyone, I will be with you." 

Bakura looked at his Aibou with expressionless eyes. He gave a slight nod and brushed past Yami as he began to walk down the sidewalk. He stopped suddenly, as Ryou caught up with him and turned his head slightly to Yami. "Our love was never to survive. As your guardians thought, and as I know now…Pharaohs and Tomb robbers never were destined to love." Ryou looked back at Yami and gave a slight nod, as he and his darker half walked away.

Yami clenched his fists, crumpling up the parchment that was in his hands. The old brown paper soon was stained with his tears, as he lowered his head, the crystalline droplets hitting the pavement. A hand was placed on his and he looked up. "Seto?" 

****

-END-

Sasha Janre: What a killer of an ending. I don't personally like the way it ended, but there was no other way to really end something labelled 'Scars and Tears'. Please review, and no hates or flames, please…this does however lead way to a three-quel. You're going to have to wait for that one, though. I'm pretty busy now with school and my writer's block. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and sorry to those who expected a happy ending. ~Sj 


	7. Epilogue

****

Epilogue 

Author's notes: I couldn't just leave the story at such a place, so I decided I'd really end the story once and for all here. The 3-quel is still pending, but it's going to start at a different place. Will there be Yami/Bakura? I'll ease your minds and say there will not be Bakura/Ryou, but maybe Malik/Bakura. Who knows? ^_~ And notice how I said nothing of Seto/Yami? The song featured, "Always" belongs to Saliva. They kick ass!

***

__

Quiet footfalls sounded in the marble floor, in the massive temple main room. Ancient artefacts lay in their protective cases, small descriptions outside the case. It was a circular room, with on particular item in the middle pedestal. A single yet thick gold band, with the Egyptian eye motif. It was encased in a square glass case, no doubt protected by technical alarms, but magical incantations as well. Looking around the room, the young man briefly glanced at the band before walking past it into the next room. 

The room after the artefact room was very plain, but had black painted walls, different Egyptian hieroglyphs painted in gold at certain points on the walls. He ran a hand through his pale blond hair before touching a hieroglyph nearest to him. The hieroglyph seemed to hold him in a suspended state of animation, his eyes focused on nothing else but the ancient symbol. Breaking himself away from the hieroglyph and moved further into the room. At the very front of the room, there was a throne-like chair, most likely gold, the architecture very ancient Egyptian. He looked around and gave a little smile. "I'm here." 

The figure that sat in the throne looked up, their entire body covered in the shadows. Slowly, they stood up and the young man saw a woman not too much older than he dressed in pale tan coloured robes, a hood covering her face. A golden Egyptian eye hanging on a tight gold band around her neck was evident through the sunlight reflecting off of it. Slowly, she took off the hood to reveal a face that could be compared to the most beautiful of goddesses. "No doubt you want to know what I called you here for." 

"It'd be nice," he murmured, putting his hands in his sleeveless hoodie's stomach pocket. He gave a wry smile, "unless you called me here just to say hello. That wouldn't hurt too much either." 

She smiled back, amused by the young man's sense of humour. "Alright then. Hello." 

"Is that all you wanted me here for?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Of course not. I had a vision," she confided, looking a tad bit worried. "And this one directly involved you, brother." 

At this, the blonde's eyebrow arched a little bit further. "Me? What could you possibly foretell of me?" 

Another small smile escaped her lips. "Oh, there are many things concerning you. But I saw that a white-haired devil is to be the one that you most desire and need to complete yourself—"

The violet eyes of her brother flashed. "I know someone of that description. Are you saying that he could be the one…the one that…are you telling the truth, Isis?" 

Isis frowned a little at the disbelief and lack of faith she got from her younger brother, but nodded nonetheless. "I do not lie, Malik. The two of you will cross paths, and they will be forever intertwined once this meeting occurs, but—" Isis Ishtar had no chance to continue as her younger brother was gone from the room. She frowned. "But beware that these circumstances must occur on their own, and must not be acted upon by you. If you do act upon this prophecy, nothing but scars and tears will befall you." 

***

Almost instantly he woke up in a cold sweat. His breathing was rapid and hard, if he continued at this rate, he'd pass out. Looking around, he saw nothing but other passengers on the plane, and the carbon copy of himself sleeping away. The strange silence—yet it wasn't really silence on a plane—almost lulled him back to sleep, but he blinked a few more times, forcing sleep to evacuate his eyes. Taking a long, deep breath, he calmed his body down. Just what in the living hell was that he just saw in his dreams? Rage burned up inside him as he realised he had just seen Malik Ishtar. No other name could bring such rage and anger to him. No other. 

Glancing out the window, he saw the tiny metropolis of Domino pass them by and wondered idly how long it would be until they got out of the city. Couldn't be more than half an hour at the absolute most, and that is if their pilot was a complete moron. Which, in his mind, probably was. They all were, except for Ryou. Rubbing his arms, Bakura looked over again at his Aibou, and wondered why he would come with him [Bakura]. So many times he had hurt his innocent half, most of the time, unsure of how to act towards someone he was sharing a body with, and wrestling with the ideologies of a modern world. 

His attitude seemed to stay throughout the ages, yet he found himself slightly doing away with past actions, because of his innocent half. Still he kept with his original plan to collect all seven of the Millennium Items in order to control this feeble mortal world, but even subconsciously made sure not to seriously injure his Aibou's body. Bakura could not count off of the top of his head how many times he had stayed in the Ring, cursing at this. But he realised that it was Ryou's gentle nature that was teaching him to be less rigid. 'He's put up with a lot from me. I haven't been the ideal other half. But I wouldn't change a damn thing.' Slightly, he put a hand on Ryou's head. 'You're the only one that can talk sense into me. Even when I'm at my worst.' 

Starting at the touch of his yami, Ryou's eyes fluttered open, and Bakura froze, never getting caught when he was being almost sensitive. Those large, hazel brown eyes stared up at Bakura's angular ones, sleep still residing in them. "Y-Yami?" Ryou asked softly, rubbing the crick out of his neck from sleeping in such an awkward position on the plane. Bakura nodded once, moving his hand from Ryou's head. "How long have I been sleeping?" 

Bakura looked at his watch and made the mental calculations. "About a good hour. You must have been really tired from…yesterday's events." His words were true; the confrontations with Malik and his Aibou had taken place late in the evening, and Ryou made the arrangements with the assistance of his father for the two of them to leave early in the morning, around 3 o'clock. Ryou looked a bit flushed, and realised his yami had stayed up watching him sleep, but nodded. 

Ryou sat up straight, but turned his body so that he was facing his yami who was sitting beside him. "Did you sleep, yami?" 

"I couldn't," Bakura confessed, looking past Ryou out the window. "I had a strange dream and decided against sleeping. I knew I couldn't, I'd think too much about it." Ryou nodded empathetically, knowing yami would not be this animated or talkative around anyone else. It gave him a sense that he was special, that someone like Bakura confided in him. "It was one mother fucking disturbing one too." 

Bakura's Aibou dismissed the use of foul language, knowing yami couldn't express himself any other way. What he was more concerned about was the fact Bakura had a dream. Rarely did an evil spirit get dreams, and when they did, they almost always had a reason. Ryou rested his hands that were clasped together in his lap, on top of the blanket that Bakura had put over him once he had fallen asleep. "Tell me of this dream, Bakura…what was so disturbing about it?" 

A few moments had passed before Bakura spoke, and when he did, his voice was low enough so that nosy neighbours sitting around them could not hear, but Ryou could. Slowly, he explained the dream as best as he could remember—which was quite vividly—and looked at his Aibou to gauge the reaction. Ryou did not always follow what Bakura thought was going to happen, and his face was contemplative. Every time Malik's name escaped Bakura's lips, the scar on his arm—still not healed, yet not bleeding heavily anymore—gave him a slight ping of pain, one that was dull and easily discharged, but not ignored. That was the other thing. Bakura kept getting second thoughts to his second thoughts, feeling things that he could find no explanation for. It was as if he was having someone else's feelings. "That _is_ strange, Bakura. You saw what Malik was talking about last night. That Prophecy Isis gave him," Ryou said, looking thoughtful. "I wonder, is this her work?" 

He frowned. "That's the last thing I need, Ryou. To have someone else indirectly affecting my life, that's the last thing I need to have happen…but why the hell would his sister show me what he was talking about?" 

Ryou stared at him blankly. "Are you telling me you don't get it? She's showing you this most likely to say that her brother isn't the bad guy entirely here. Now, I am just assuming, so don't freak out. Malik said he came here because she prophesied that you would be the one that would be 'the one' for him. If you were given such a prophecy, would you wait for fate or carry it out yourself?" 

Bakura blinked for a few moments. "Of course, the stars don't decide my—" he stopped dead in his sentence. That was the exact same thing Malik had said when Ryou challenged his initiation of the prophecy. _'I do not wait for fate. Fate doesn't exist for me. You make your own fate, not the stars!'_ The colour left his face, as Bakura blanched at the eerie similarities between he and the Ishtar heir. He looked to his Aibou. "What are you suggesting? That Malik and I are destined to be one? But what of you…you wanted me to be with Yami… isn't that right?" 

Ryou shook his head. "I wanted you to be happy. If that happiness resided with Yami, or, heaven willing, it resides with Malik, it doesn't matter to me. As long as you find that happiness, who it is with is none of my concern." He gave a smile, "you're confused about this, and I think that this ride will be good for you. You'll be able to sort yourself out." 

"I think it will take more than some plane ride to sort my head out," Bakura quipped, and looked startled as Ryou chuckled. He gave a rare smile to his Aibou, and stood up. "I'm going to go for a walk." 

"All right. Don't get lost," Ryou said patronisingly. 

"Bite me." The two smiled, as Bakura walked out into the aisle, wandering aimlessly throughout the plane, yet making it look like he was looking for something or someone. As he reached the very back of the plane, where there were very few people, he heard someone sniffling then coughing. Finding this odd, as there were no visible people in the last few seats before the back of the car, Bakura peered in each of the seats. Growing increasingly curious as he still heard the faint noise, he reached the final seat and nearly fell backwards, as in the last seat, and he found Malik Ishtar. 

Malik's gorgeous blonde hair was in slight disarray, and he was half curled up in his seat, one leg down, and the other was pulled to his chest, his chin resting on the kneecap. The headset rested around his neck, the music loud enough for Bakura to hear the lyrics: 

__

I'm hearing a voice say "don't be so blind"  
It's telling me all these things that you would probably hide  
Am I your one and only desire?  
Am I the reason you breathe, or am I the reason you cry?  
Always, always, always, I just can't live without you  
I love you, I hate you, I can't get around you  
I breathe you, I taste you, I can't live without you  
I just can't take anymore, this life of solitude,  
I guess I'm out the door, and now I'm done with you  
I feel like you don't want me around  
I guess I'll pack all my things, I guess I'll see you around   
I love you, I hate you, I just can't get around you  
I breathe you, I taste you, I just can't live without you  
I just can't take anymore, this life of solitude…

Bakura stayed perfectly silent for the first few moments, but softly began to sing to the well-known song; he himself had listened to this particular one on loop for an entire afternoon. Slowly his voice rose that Malik's head snapped up and those once hateful violet eyes looked shocked. "What…Bakura? What are…go ahead. Ridicule and cut me open, since you found me sitting here like a pathetic moron…I know you want to after all I did." 

Surprising himself, Bakura sat down beside the blonde Egyptian, putting his arms on the armrests, and making it so their scars were touching. "Even after all that shit you pulled, I'm not going to do that. But…I saw something…it made me realise why you did what you did." Malik raised an eyebrow that said, 'all right…enlighten me'. "Isis told you that a _white haired devil_ would be the one to complete you…as would I, you went to complete it on your own. Fate doesn't apply to your or me it seems, but karma seems to be a bitch. But we are more alike than I realised, and we are bonded…" 

"Bakura…I ask only one favour," Malik said softly, and when Bakura nodded, said, "hold me." 

Finding this an odd request, Bakura yet felt the overwhelming desire coming from Malik, the desire to be held, to be, well loved. Unsure if he could be the one to give the young Egyptian the peace of mind he so desperately sought, Bakura put his arms around Malik, and was surprised when Malik moved closer into his embrace, sitting in his lap. 'Strange,' Bakura thought, as he looked down at the boy that had mere hours before, played puppeteer with Yami, but now was reduced to a little boy who wanted nothing more than to be held. 'I should be furious with him, I should want to kill him right where he sits, yet here I am holding him. I wonder just how more screwed up this could get.' 

"I'm sorry," Malik whispered. "My words do not have any value with you…but still, I am sorry for what I've done…" 

"Shut up, Ishtar," Bakura commanded, albeit softly. "We both have a lot to think about…but you have no doubt given me scars, and tears…" 

Malik tensed. "No one could have known that unless they have heard the entire prophecy Isis gave to me…you said you heard that part…did you hear all of it?" 

Bakura nodded once. "I saw it all in a dream. What she prophesied to you, and when you left, what she said afterwards. But like you said, the stars don't make your fate, you do. I don't know what I'm going to do, but…for the first time, I'll let the fates decide what to do now. I figured, since everyone seems to like to play with me, they can decide this." Malik tensed at the undercurrent of resentment in Bakura's voice. He knew though, that he deserved every bit of this and more. "But enough about that. It won't solve anything." 

"Do you have any idea where this plane goes?" Malik questioned.

He blinked. "Actually, I have no fucking clue." 

Malik paused for a moment before answering, "Egypt." 

~~

****

Sasha: Now there's where I wanted the second part of that three-quel to start. I have a slight idea of what the third part will be, but it's not fully formed yet. I hoped this quenches your thirst for something relatively new from me. Thanks for the support, everyone! 


End file.
